


what we had when there was something left to save

by Alias (anafabula)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (again), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Banned Together Bingo 2020, Bystander POV, Choking, Dissociation, Eavesdropping, Heavily-Implied Assault, Implied Relationships, M/M, Off-label use of a kinkmeme prompt, Oops., PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Panic Attacks, Suggestion that the assault in question is sexual, Suggestive Themes, also there is (probably), big bystander effect hours in this academic institution tonight folks!, especially for Tim., pity ‘the bystander effect itself’ is a preexisting problem, to be specific, violence(?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27989253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anafabula/pseuds/Alias
Summary: There aren’t any sounds of struggle, after that. There’s the susurrus of what’s definitely Elias’s voice, though, not even out of breath. Couldn’t confirm Tim’s suspicions as to which party is which in this scenario better if they were trying.Tim hears things, despite his best intentions.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist (Implied), Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Comments: 21
Kudos: 71
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020, Rusty Kink





	what we had when there was something left to save

**Author's Note:**

> My ongoing interest with Gentle Giant squares continues to be testing my own understanding of what qualifies as PG! This one’s “Swearing”. There is, I will note, no explicit swearing in text.
> 
> (ETA: That being said, if you’re curious/concerned about the juxtaposition of rating and tags, there’s a detailed explanation from my point of view [in this comment](https://archiveofourown.org/comments/370827474). I should also note the comments section as a whole has been more PG13 overall.)
> 
> The prompt it fills is arguably a spoiler/reframes the fic drastically, and is itself Explicit by nature; it is linked in the end notes.

Tim wouldn’t have gone up to Elias’s office if he could think of a more bearable option. Really. He was enough hard-pressed to drag himself out of the tunnels, never mind further upstairs. But _apparently_ Jon’s been there suspiciously long, and Martin’s out pretending they have jobs with any kind of purpose to them and following up on some random person’s statement like it matters, and Tim’s not sure what he makes of Basira yet but he’s _not_ sending Melanie back there.

Volunteering it is, then. He _voluntarily_ goes upstairs, and he _voluntarily_ stalks past Rosie’s desk, and he notes the evidence she’s out on lunch without conscious thought. Notes that it means he’s alone in the hall when he pauses by the door instead of knocking. It means he alone hears the raised voice audible but not intelligible through the door, enough to make him freeze on a reflex he knows well and doesn’t want to think about. Tim’s not even sure whose voice he’s hearing, who would be shouting in Elias’s office in the middle of the afternoon if not one of them. The not knowing fixes him in place effective as just about anything.

The point where Tim pins down that it’s definitely Jon’s voice is a positive one, and Tim’s face curls involuntarily with how much he hates being able to tell. It’s not quite right, it’s like a less-civilized step to the left from the kind of noise Tim’s heard Jon make when someone hands him just the right source he was looking for, he thinks. Tim used to feel sorry for him about that, the extent to which Jon seemed to have decided long before they met that his choices were “normal” or “noticeably pleased”, ever, and there was no contest against the former. Tim used to feel sorry for Jon about a lot of things.

He starts to consider reprising that, the old kind of pity, when the next sound is a dense, heavy thump. Not as heavy as most people being slammed onto a desk – was it cleared for that purpose? Tim wonders, inanely, save for how that’s really a question of premeditation, the kind of evidence he’d want if he cared, which he doesn’t – he doesn’t – neither Jon nor Elias are large men, Tim thinks. Jon wears it uncomfortably delicate when you look at him twice, Elias wears it supercilious, just like you might expect. That was Jon’s body hitting too hard not to knock the breath out of him, Tim thinks, probably the only thing keeping him from making more noise about it. Almost definitely the desk; a wall would sound different, more muffled, in a building like this.

There aren’t any sounds of struggle, after that. There’s the susurrus of what’s definitely Elias’s voice, though, not even out of breath. Couldn’t confirm Tim’s suspicions as to which party is which in this scenario better if they were trying.

Tim’s starting to feel sorry for – not sorry. Worried. He can be _worried_ for Jon. That’s _fine_. That’s basically synonymous with worrying _about_ Jon, about what risk he poses to other people, like the way he’d suspected Jon of being the one on the other end of the altercation here for a minute. That’s fine. The amount of neutrality keeping him pressed to the door isn’t a betrayal of anyone downstairs, it’s still just… reconnaissance.

The reply from Jon he can hear – such as it is – is another version of the noise he knew from pleasure earlier, twisted a bit further off-kilter, laboriously dragged out of his throat loud enough for Tim to hear. More – more physical scuffling sounds, a bit less self-assurance on Elias’s part, whatever’s happening Tim wouldn’t have thought Jon had it in him. Too complicit, too fragile, too much of a coward. (Too caught up in the thing that made his voice soften times it shouldn’t, that made Jon alone perfectly docile in light of Elias’s confession when he’d _caused_ it.)

Tim wouldn’t have thought he could misidentify a sound of physical pain as badly as all context seems to indicate he has, though. He would’ve expected Elias to be less physical or more careful with Jon in particular or both, the favoritism and the long years before ever thinking of him as a threat apparently leading Tim astray. So it’d look like he’s been wrong about a lot of things.

What is this, then, some kind of managerial dispute between expressions of their spooky evil god? Is Jon actually standing up to the bastard somehow when no one would think better of him for it? Tim wonders how something like Elias goes about putting something like Jon in his place if that’s what he’s actually up to, and he regrets it, immediately, his mind unspooling worst-case scenarios that start at ‘Melanie’ and pick up the much more physically violent sounds as it goes.

As if on cue, the level of background noise drops. Tim hadn’t even realized it was there. His mind had papered over what were presumably more underlying sounds of Jon fighting back somehow, right up until the point where he seems to have stopped.

“Better,” he hears Elias say, very clearly, with that crisp, smug tone like he thinks he’s won an argument and won’t deign to treat whoever’s on the other side of it like an opponent even in defeat.

Jon swears at him in response; not particularly imaginative, but more pointed of instructions overall than Tim would expect from him, unrecognizable from the man who’d channeled his own anxious sense of inevitable failure into lectures on professionalism right up until he’s silenced with a choked-off cry. Presumably, Tim thinks with a kind of clinical edge that he can tell is dissociation even in the moment of it, because he’s being choked, or roughly equivalent treatment.

Wouldn’t have thought Elias had that in him, either, Tim thinks. He feels very far away from the thought as he’s having it. Almost feels like that’s why his understanding of their words gets choppier again, like he’s pulled himself out of earshot for purposes other than Jon’s intermittent and repetitive cursing and a general sort of vibe.

Even that is still too much, and not enough. He can’t _see_ , and he doesn’t dare try the door now – in case it’s audible; in case it isn’t locked. But what’s he going to tell the others? ‘Hey, Mels, plot twist, turns out Spooky Telepath Boss #1 is as hard on Jon as he was on you, and by the way did you conveniently leave out anything physical in your recap?’ ‘Oh, no, I don’t really know what was happening, I just heard some things and got scared so we should trust Jon further than we can throw him now.’ ‘I know what this looks like but I am _definitely_ not chickening out, just trust me.’ Christ.

‘Why am I telling you this if I didn’t do anything? Why _didn’t_ I do anything? Well…’ It makes sense at the time. Doesn’t it? It’s not like this isn’t what he _does_ , hangs back frozen at thresholds without knowing when—

Just about when Tim’s backtracking enough to think, or, you know, hey, maybe he’s jumping to conclusions and this is some kind of monster business he can’t actually weigh in on – just about then, Jon _wails_.

Tim expects some hostile reaction to that from Elias there, another blow, more scuffling noises. He doesn’t get what he expects, which about figures, a horrible little mark of realism that trickles a slimy sense of unease down his spine like there was any of that sort of thing still lacking.

He gets, the words indistinct and the tone in line with his nightmares in a way that means it _really_ doesn’t matter, some further extended comments from Elias, his voice nauseatingly warm and fond. Tim can’t tell if he hears no-longer-verbal noises from Jon as well or if he’s just projecting it, what with his ears having started to ring at some point. He can tell when he hears Elias laughing after, though, not even spiteful and sadistic but like he’s told himself a joke and knows he’s the only audience who matters.

Tim grips the doorframe, has been gripping it, just the edge not fully covered when the door’s closed. He looks blankly at the way his knuckles stand out with the strain. White with pressure, flexing across proof there’s something else inside his skin, doing him little if any good.

After a little while longer, he does let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Many readings are possible and encouraged, but this was in fact also a fill for [this kinkmeme prompt](https://rusty-kink.dreamwidth.org/1380.html?thread=611428&posted=1#cmt659044) (link is nsfw).
> 
> I am failing to think of a canny and clever way to encourage people to comment but oh gosh do I like comments, all sorts.


End file.
